


Clean

by flootzavut



Series: Swamp(y) Sex [6]
Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: Bisexual BJ Hunnicutt, Bisexual Hawkeye Pierce, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode Related, Episode Tag, Episode: s08e11 Life Time, M/M, Missing Scene, Rage eats a chicken, Season/Series 08, Shower Sex, Smut, Swamp(y) Kisses, Swamp(y) Sex, implied ot3, queer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-04-25 12:26:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14378619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flootzavut/pseuds/flootzavut
Summary: BJ can't do anything about the boy in post op, can't make a miracle happen, but he can look after his Hawk.Missing scene for Life Time. Beej takes care of a dispirited Hawkeye.





	Clean

**Author's Note:**

  * For [onekisstotakewithme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/onekisstotakewithme/gifts), [brinnanza](https://archiveofourown.org/users/brinnanza/gifts).



> thanks to okttwm and Brinn for beta-reading and generalised awesomeness ♥️

* * *

_**Clean** _

* * *

 

BJ can hardly stand how the triumph and pleasure of saving a life drop away from Hawkeye's face, the way he dives headfirst into cynicism.

"Hawk, we saved his life."

"Yeah, well, I guess that's something."

"It's more than something," BJ insists. "It's everything."

They share a look. BJ wishes he could reach into Hawk's brain, into his heart, and take out the self-hating part that won't accept anything except perfection, that takes any failure as a personal flaw.

They tidy up, then Hawk trudges away to the scrub room. BJ watches him go before turning to Margaret. "Hawk's gonna need to wash up more than his hands. I'm taking him to the shower tent."

Margaret studies him for a second, nods, understanding in her eyes. "We can finish up here," she says, glancing at Kellye. "Look after him."

"Klinger!" BJ yells, and Klinger appears from God knows where. He might still be learning how to be company clerk, but he excels in the OR.

"Sir?"

BJ's not sure how to phrase it, so in the end he goes with straightforward (more or less). "Hawk's pretty cut up. I'm taking him for a shower. Give us some privacy?"

"Of course," Klinger says, more softly. "I'll take care of it."

"Thanks." BJ gives each of them a nod, then follows after Hawk.

They stand side by side at the sink as they've done so often before - dozens of times,  _hundreds_  of times. It's not even the first time they've stood in silence, brooding over a patient who didn't make it or who survived but at too high a cost to be counted as a victory. Hawk doesn't even glance at him, but the solidarity is there nonetheless. They've both been on each side of this situation before.

BJ doesn't say a word, just lets Hawk get the worst of the blood off then wraps an arm around his shoulders and leads him away. They go back to the Swamp for supplies and then to the showers. BJ will keep a weather eye out for anyone who decides they need to freshen up in the middle of the afternoon, but it should be okay. It's quiet, and he trusts Margaret and Klinger to conspire to ensure privacy, even if they don't know exactly how things are between him and Hawk.

(They're both smart people, though. Maybe they realise. BJ doesn't much care as long as they keep it under their hats. This is between him and Hawkeye and Peggy, as personal and private as his and Peggy's bed.)

Exhaustion and draining adrenaline have Hawk quiet and drooping. BJ could remind him that maybe the ice worked, that he saved the boy's life even if there's paralysis, but he knows the only thing that'll really be the shot in the arm Hawk needs is if the patient wakes up and wiggles his toes, so he stays quiet as he carefully and gently strips Hawk down and pushes him into the cubicle. Taking care of those he loves is woven into BJ's DNA; he needs this as much as Hawkeye does.

Hawk closes his eyes and pushes his face into the spray, which is about as much as can reasonably be expected of him right now, so BJ lets him be and undresses himself.

It isn't the first time they've shared a shower, though it's not the norm. It's not feasible to do regularly, but sometimes they need it. Hawk sways into BJ's body and lets his head fall back onto BJ's shoulder. His arms hang loosely by his sides, and if he were less strung out, BJ would tease him about being lazy.

Instead, he lathers up and starts soaping Hawkeye down, careful and thorough. BJ can't do anything about the boy in post op, can't make a miracle happen, but he can look after his Hawk.

BJ pays special attention to Hawk's hands and fingers. Hawk already washed them, but BJ is determined to get rid of any last trace of blood and ice, to make Hawk forget anything but how good it feels to be warm and clean.

It's oddly comforting to hold Hawkeye and slowly scrub him clean, arms and shoulders and neck and chest. Hawk is lax against him, his trust that BJ will take care of him absolute.

When BJ finally reaches his thighs, Hawk sighs out a long 'please.' BJ doesn't answer, but he slips his hands between Hawk's legs, washes him slow and tender, then wraps soapy fingers around his erection and starts to stroke.

The sound Hawkeye makes is as much relief as pleasure. "Ahh, Beej," he murmurs right in BJ's ear, "Beej, Beej," like he can't stop saying it.

BJ takes it slow, not enough to make Hawk squirm but enough to make it last. Hawk wobbles, his knees giving way, but BJ holds him steady with an arm firm around his waist.

"It's okay, Hawk," he whispers. "It's okay, I've got you."

Hawk makes a noise that's half sob, half moan of pleasure. "Oh God, Beej, please..."

BJ adds a twist to the end of his stroke, and it's enough. Hawk shivers and shakes and whimpers, his cock pulses in BJ's hand, and he would fall if BJ weren't holding him so tight. BJ holds him close, kisses his shoulder, murmurs comforting nonsense in his ear. Hawk cranes back far enough to press a kiss to the corner of BJ's jaw, and whispers 'Thank you', his voice choked with emotion.

They stand there for a few minutes, the water sluicing over them, washing away the remains of the soap and the evidence of Hawk's orgasm, and BJ wishes they could just stay here, clean and warm and together. Moments like this, when everything is so peaceful and perfect, it's almost possible to forget there's a war being waged a few miles down the road.

"Don't fall asleep on me now, Hawk," he says when Hawk's breathing gets slower and deeper.

Hawk humphs. "Spoilsport," he mumbles, his voice only just audible over the water.

"Yeah, that's me," BJ says, grinning despite himself. "Here to ruin your fun and your sleep."

A laugh rumbles through Hawk's chest. He turns in BJ's embrace, wraps an arm around BJ's neck and kisses his way up BJ's throat. "Beej?"

"Yeah?"

" _Thank you_."

"You're welcome," BJ says, with a smile against Hawk's temple.

Hawk laughs again and wraps his free hand around BJ's cock. He's too tired for finesse or calculation, just grabs and strokes, but BJ has his arms full of wet, naked Hawk, has had Hawk's backside pressed into his crotch this entire time, and he doesn't need finesse right now. He bucks into Hawkeye's grip. "I love making you come," Hawk murmurs in his ear, and BJ is a goner, he's falling to pieces, muffling his groan against Hawk's wet hair, and now they're holding each other up because BJ's legs are none too steady either.

 _I love you so much_ , BJ thinks. Neither of them has said it out loud yet. There are too many complications, too many things at stake. In the end, they're both waiting until after the war. There's something real here, it isn't just a product of fear and desperation and lack of options, but there are no guarantees when any day could be their last. Saying it aloud is too much like daring fate.

But BJ knows, deep in his bones, how Hawkeye feels about him; he does his best to show Hawk the feeling is utterly mutual, and he's reasonably sure Hawk knows it too, on some level. In the meantime, they look out for each other and care for each other, and neither of them has to be alone. And one day, he promises himself for the hundredth time, he'll tell Hawk those three small words that mean so much.

Once they've both caught their breath, Hawk loosens his grip and moves away far enough for the water to pour down between them. He carefully washes BJ clean, then twines both arms around him once more and squeezes him tight.

"Thank you, Beej," he says again, and again BJ replies, "You're welcome."

After another few minutes, they reluctantly untangle. They'll be wanted in post-op all too soon.  _No rest for the wicked. What the hell did we do so wrong?_

Clean (ish) clothes after a tough session in the OR are almost as good as clean bodies. Once they're decent, it's as if nothing happened right up until Hawk slides his hands into BJ's hair and pulls him down for a gentle, thorough kiss, soft and warm and delicious.

"What was that for?" BJ asks when they surface.

Hawk just looks up at BJ and smiles in that way he has that says he's affectionately amused by BJ's confusion. "Do I need a reason?"

BJ raises an eyebrow, but he can't help returning the smile. "Idiot." It's funny how when he calls Hawkeye that, it comes out sounding more like a compliment than an insult.

Hawk shakes his head, but he looks a hell of a lot better than he did in the OR, as if the water has washed away a little of his self-doubt and anger. BJ will take the minor triumph. Hawk wraps his arm around BJ's waist and tugs BJ's arm around his own shoulders, and they head out to face the real world. It pretty much sucks, but at least they're in it together.

_~ fin ~_

**Author's Note:**

> If you're interested in talking to folks in the fandom, please come join us in [The Swamp](https://discord.gg/H5nHFr4), which is a MASH Discord server where quite a few MASH readers, writers and artists hang out :D


End file.
